Belgo Centraal, 50 Earlham Street, Covent Garden, London WC2H 9 LJ

Belgo Centraal, 50 Earlham Street, Covent Garden, London WC2H 9 LJ

50 Earlham Street, Covent Garden, London WC2H 9 LJ

020 7813 2233

The last time I was in a Belgo – the Bierdrome in Holborn - four of us had booked a table for dinner. But after 10 minutes of deafening music, unable to speak to each other or attract the attention of any staff, we all left and found somewhere else. That was about 5 years ago and I’ve never been back. This obviously made a huge impression on Belgo, as they now have no background music at all. You see the kind of power I have ?

The first and best thing about Belgo Centraal is the staff. Loads of them, all young, keen and friendly – you rarely get this calibre of service in a chain. It makes the atmosphere happy and buzzy – I wonder what their secret is, and I bet there’s a dozen other chains would like to know as well. The room was well filled for a Monday, so they’re doing OK. They’ve got a Lobster Festival on at the moment, so L went for the Surf and Turf – half a lobster, rib eye steak and chips, while I thought I’d go for a Traditional Pot of Moules with fries. I thought, well this is their signature dish – right ? And for £13 I’ll get something generous and wonderful. Big mistake. It was dismal: a pot of the smallest mussels I have ever seen, cooked in an adequate but unremarkable liquor with parsley, onion and celery. And a small bowl of chips. And that was it. £13!

L’s lobster was OK. We always think lobster is going to be wonderful, but wherever we have it – New York, Hong Kong, London – it’s always a disappointment. Two mouthfuls of shellfish, half an hour of buggering about with nutcrackers and surgical implements, mess everywhere – oh give me prawns or scallops any day. So that was half a lobster, a steak, cooked as requested and a pile of chips like mine. £16! What made it worse was that we saw some really interesting looking plates going to other tables, and realised if we’d ordered almost anything else we’d have had better food. L had one glass of blonde beer, and then asked our waiter for a recommendation to go with the dessert. He suggested a Triple Karmelite, which was excellent; unfortunately, owing to an antibiotic situation, I had to stick to diet coke. The desserts were a big improvement. A small bread and butter pudding made with brioche and Belgian chocolate, served with chantilly cream for me, and for L a splendid chocolate cheese cake with a dark chocolate sauce, betrayed its Belgian origins by being wonderfully bitter and not over sweet.

Belgo do what they do very well, but if I went again I would order more carefully, and certainly not boring little moules.